


Diaries

by x_sunny



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Oblivious Grantaire, Past Rape/Non-con, Trans Enjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 21:10:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18668446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/x_sunny/pseuds/x_sunny
Summary: Two diaries, two separate worlds. What's hiding behind those thin pages and bold words?





	Diaries

**Author's Note:**

> trans enjolras: exists  
> me: goddamnit.
> 
> so I didn't want to make this multiple chapters so I ended up just making it a long oneshot?? yeah lmao 
> 
> This is technically my first work if you don't count all the ones I posted then deleted??
> 
> Hope you enjoy rip
> 
> (Also Marius is literally the only smart one in this fic for some reason
> 
> jk they're all smart but he's more observant)

    Enjolras had two diaries.

    If you attended the meetings, you'd notice the dark red one. It's the one he uses all the time, jotting down notes for the next event, writing useful information.

    But if you looked closer, sometimes you'd see in his brown bag a flash of purple, bright and very unlike Enjolras. Sometimes during heated meetings, he would stare at the diary sadly, and then tone down his voice and be slightly less aggressive. It was quite a mystery amongst all of the Amis, and even Combeferre and Courfeyrac, who knew him the longest, hadn't the slightest clue of why or what it was.

    One day during a meeting, Enjolras was jabbering on about how abortion is good and how rape is bad, blah blah blah. It was pretty damn boring, and Grantaire was pretty tired of it. Downing another sip of his drink, he interrupted, "Why do you care so much about abortion and rape? There are no girls here."

    Instead of angry, Enjolras had a sad look in his misty blue eyes. "Why, Grantaire, must you have a rebuttal for every statement I utter?"

    "Answer my question, Apollo."

    Enjolras slammed his hands on the desk. "Why would you not? Do you support women having to keep the children of the men who raped them?"

    "It's not that I don't. It's just that you seem so angry about it, when there's literally no one here who would understand it first hand."

    "Meeting adjourned."

    This caused a small uproar, shouts of confusion and bafflement for such a quick ending. The meetings usually ended at 6, no matter how angry everyone was, but it was only 5:30. None of these protests were heard, because Enjolras made wide strides out the door.

    The conversation turned to small whispers and chatter, and Grantaire saw the brown bag. He grabbed it and surveyed the contents. Inside was a few writing supplies, a phone, a paper copy of Phantom of the Opera, and the diaries. He slung the bag over his shoulder, and made it over to the door. However, Jehan stopped him, saying one of his cryptic messages. "Be careful, R. He's broken as is."

    Grantaire simply rolled his eyes, sarcastically replying, "that made complete sense, Jehan." Jehan often said strange phrases, and it was probably from all the poetry he read. However, this one made some sense, which was quite frightening, and so he set out to find Enjolras.

    He would probably be at the bridge, which he always went to to think. That was about 15 minutes away to walk, so Grantaire opened up the ominous purple diary. He was pretty sure Enjolras hated purple and bees, judging from the bee on the first page. He started to read.

     _Dear Diary,_

 _This is my first time writing in this diary! My name is Juliette Enjolras, and I love purple and bees, and nature and people! I have two parents who aren't the best but are trying. I love them lots. Even though they aren't a fan of my prospects. I really want to change how women live by giving them voices and rights! Mama is calling me, so it would be in my best interest to go. See you later!_  

    However, when Grantaire flipped the page, instead of the loopy curly writing of the girl who he assumed to be the sister of Enjolras, there was a newspaper in pristine condition. The bold headlines screeched, LOCAL GIRL RAPED. It went on to explain how a fourteen year old girl (Juliette) was raped by a man who got shot by police, and was possibly pregnant.

    "Oh my fucking God," Grantaire gasped as he looked at the picture of a girl with blood running down a gash on her face and a broken expression in her eyes. She looked exactly like Enjolras, with longer hair. He was the most insensitive bastard, dear lord, of course Enjolras would care about those things if they happened to his sister.

    He flipped through the pages, all empty, and tossed the purple diary in the bag as he approached the bridge. Sure enough, standing next to the edge was a blond haired angel. "Hey," Grantaire started, "you left your bag." Enjolras spun around, the horrified expression quickly turning unreadable like usual. "Ah, thank you."

    He outstretched his hand for the bag, but Grantaire took a step back. A confused expression filled his eyes at this point, but that turned to horrified once more as Grantaire pulled out the purple diary. "Can you explain this?" Enjolras was speechless for once, and Grantaire took the opportunity to continue. "None of us would have judged you."

    "None of you would understand!" Enjolras flailed for the purple journal, only to come short (which was funny because he was taller than Grantaire).

    "Listen, it isn't too hard to understand. I'm sorry I was a douche about it. If my sister got raped, I would want to change something. I don't have one, but still."

    Enjolras stared at Grantaire for a little, and for some strange reason, began to laugh. "Oh god. You scared me so much. You're pretty close minded, dude."

    This was horribly wrong. First of all, Enjolras was calling him dude. Second of all, he was laughing about the rape of his sister? Enjolras simply continued, "Listen, you can keep the thing. It's haunted me a while but I never had the heart to get rid of it. At least give me the bag." Grantaire had no other option than to give him the bag and watch wordlessly as he walked off.

    Hopefully his friends were still at the Musain, because there was no way he would figure this out himself. 

* * *

    After Grantaire explained everything to the remainder of people (Combeferre, Courfeyrac, Marius and Jehan), the diary was opened. Combeferre delicately removed the tape off the newspaper, careful not a rip a single word. It expanded into a longer explanation and a testimony from Juliette's mother. Four of them sat there completely confused, while one was in disbelief of how blind his friends could be.

    Marius groaned after another 10 minutes of nothing. "Guys, it's pretty simple." At the turning of heads and confused looks, he continued, "Enjolras is transgender."

    That was impossible, Grantaire thought, there was no way, but the others looked less astounded by this. Marius added, "his first name is Julien. Similar to Juliette. He refuses to talk about his teenage years, and he met Ferre and Courf when he was 15, a year after the event. He almost had a panic attack when he hit his head once, and in this picture the girl has blood all over her in the same area. Plus, the barely visible white scar running down his face matches this gash."

    Courfeyrac groaned. "How could I have not noticed? Once I walking in on him changing, and he screeched like a girl. He probably doesn't have any surgeries. He also knows martial arts, I think it's called Krav Maga or something, probably to defend himself."

    "We're all idiots," Jehan concluded.

    Grantaire nodded in agreement.

    God, he was such an asshole and complete dumbass. How did he not notice it at all? He remembered one time he was drunk and Enjolras left, singing, and he thought he was a girl because of his high voice. They really needed to find him.

    Marius cleared his throat. "I always suspected, but I never had the guts to approach him." Who does, Grantaire thought.

    "We'd best hunt for him now," Combeferre said grimly, and they all set out.

* * *

    They didn't walk too far at all. Enjolras had shut himself up in his apartment, and they all knew it. After knocking for the seventh time, a dull voice arose from the door. "Go away."

    "Enjolras, please. None of us judge you. Just let us in," Combeferre pleaded. The door eventually creaked open, and the five of them slowly creeped in.

    Enjolras had gone back to his place on the ground, in front of a large cork board. On it in the middle was the same newspaper clipping from the diary, and around it were pictures. Pictures of the girl smiling and playing and goofing around with friends and family. On the top in Sharpie, he had written,  **this is what you've lost.** The Sharpie was red. Too red. Was it even Sharpie, or something worse?

    Courfeyrac instantly surged forward to hug the small figure, and soon enough, all five of them were on top of Enjolras in a jumble of sad hugs. He was very skinny, perhaps hadn't eaten in a while, and was only wearing a binder and shorts. Scars littered the pale skin, and his eyes were as shattered as the girl in the newspaper.

    "Enjolras," Jehan said sadly, "why didn't you tell us?"

    "I didn't want you to think I was weak."

    "Enjolras," Grantaire said softly, "you are anything but weak. You're perfect, you're you."

    "I'm also pathetic, stupid, ridiculous, and a girl."

    "Enjolras, you are not a girl. You are not pathetic or stupid or ridiculous. You're you. And that's all you need to be."

    Enjolras finally looked up, tears spilling down his face. His beautiful misty blue eyes were so broken, and what Jehan said finally made sense. "Thank you all." They all sunk back into the hug, until Courfeyrac suggested burning the board. That's exactly what they proceeded to do.

* * *

    A few weeks after what happened, Enjolras told the other Amis, who were fine with it and gave him lots of hugs, and he finally seemed to be accepting himself.

    He had secretly been saving money for a surgery, and after the surgery, he seemed so much happier than before. Grantaire liked to talk to him and keep reminding him he was a good person, making sure he was laughing instead of crying.

    After one particular meeting, Enjolras asked Grantaire to walk home with him. They walked in a comfortable silence, until reaching the apartment. "Thank you," Enjolras smiled, before crashing into Grantaire and kissing him.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> yeehaw thanks 4 reading
> 
> love 4 pewds, not sub 2 pewds


End file.
